The Battle Never Ends Chapter 1
by Silvertalon2oo5
Summary: Chapter one of my Underworld fanfic. It will take a little bit to post the next one but I can promise you won't be disappointed.


The Battle Never Ends

Chapter 1

Selene knew something like this would happen, but Michael insisted upon returning to the city for a while. She stormed into the apartment, the paper in her hand gripped tightly enough to bend steel. Michael was sitting calmly in his office, enjoying his new hobby. Etching glass had come as quite the relief for his tattered mind; seeing as how it kept him occupied enough that he didn't need blood as much. Selene still brought him packs of it, but his mind was so busy with the glass, he could go weeks without a drink and stay sane. His current creation was abruptly ended when a very angry Deathdealer burst through the door and knocked the glass from his hand on wind alone. He sat a moment, looking at the empty space in between his hands.

"I'm glad I'd only just started that," he said, reaching into the top drawer for a fresh slate, "what's on your mind?"

"This," she said, holding up the tabloid. She tossed it onto the desk. "I told you this would happen! I TOLD you it would happen! And YOU didn't believe me! We have to leave, NOW!" Her face had turned thoroughly pink now and her eyes locked on the man. He didn't seem too concerned. He looked over the headline. The photo of him and Selene wasn't a very flattering one. The headline read: "Blood Bank Crisis! Vampiric Doctor to Blame?" He didn't see the point in getting upset. It was just a tabloid.

"So," he asked with a hint of contempt, "nobody takes these things seriously." He picked up his grease pencil and began to draw an image onto the fresh slate. Michael liked to do these by hand. Electronic etchings may be accurate, but his had romance to them; and he liked that. After he drew the image, he would etch in the outline and clean the glass free of grease. Then he would etch in the details and airbrush some color onto it.

"People do read it, Michael," Selene said. Her temper was running short and so was time. "And there are people who take it seriously. Scientists, Hunters, vengeful members of both sides would all love to get a hold of us. This," she picked up the tabloid and shook it at him, "THIS is how they get their leads. They'll come for us! They'll find us! We have to leave." Michael still wasn't convinced. And what the devil were Hunters?!

"Hunters," he asked, confused.

"Vampire Hunters," Selene explained, "they do exist and they are a very real threat. Vampire Hunters can sense us from miles away. They have technology which supercedes our own. They're on their way here so we have to leave."

"Well I suppose," Michael conceded, "where to? Like across town or out of state or what?"

"Out of country," Selene said, "we're going back to Russia…tonight. Get your stuff and let's go."

Selene's logic seemed a little pessimistic, but she had been right so far. Before Michael had gotten up from his desk, Selene was loading her guns and checking the sights. She tossed him a pair of Uzis. He didn't like guns, but they had indeed become necessary for his new "life" style. He checked them out. They seemed alright…for guns.

"Hurry up," she urged. She knew from experience how little time they had. If they didn't move quickly they would have a very long, painful fight on their hands with a strong chance of Michael changing forms. The last thing they would need is a transformation right in front of any of these people. Discovery of his hybrid nature could spell disaster for both of them, especially factoring in Michael's border-line immortality. She decided a couple of high capacity side arms and the more technologically advanced weapons would go with them and the rest would stay for discovery. Her clothes were very neatly rolled and thus easily packed. She couldn't help but wonder who had told the tabloids about them. No time to dawdle on that now though. She could think it over on the boat.

Reluctantly, Michael gathered his things for the trip. The guns felt awkward at his sides. He would have to wrap his glass to prevent breakage, especially with the rocking of the boats. Selene didn't trust planes. She said they complicate things. No where to go in the event of discovery, nothing to do if they need to retreat, too easy to track. She figured boats were safer mainly for the fact of the water. What was she so worked up about? Were these Hunters really that bad?

A short minute later they were headed out the door. Escape seemed certain until Selene looked down the stairs. Fourteen floors of winding staircases served as a suitable vantage point.

She looked down and saw her worst fear realized. A team of hunters had already found their complex! These bastards were smart. Five that she could count, each one carrying more than enough weaponry to take down even the most stubborn vampire. The front door would clearly not work. Thinking fast she ran past Michael straight for the window. It was the only one in the apartment and it thankfully led to an adjacent building's roof. It seems big cities had advantages after all. She opened the window just in time to see the rest of the hunter team. Five more, each with a high powered rifle. What is wrong with these mortals?! One would think they had real lives to get on with. Either way she went it looked like a fight would be necessary. She had to think fast. If Michael transformed, all of them would have to die, leading to an investigation, bringing more unwanted attention.

Meanwhile in the hallway, Michael peered curiously at the group at the bottom of the stairs. Their equipment seemed rather unusual. Selene was in the apartment cursing up a storm to herself and pacing rather quickly. He didn't see what the big deal was. Worst case scenario, he has to transform and fight his way out. After killing the first Lychan and Vampire, such a concept became slightly less horrid. The men at the bottom of the stairs were talking on radios to someone else. He could hear something about positions, visuals and equipment. Somewhere he heard the word window and wondered if they meant his window. But that was silly. There was no way a group of idiots reading tabloids could know that he lived there.

As he watched them far below, the chatter slowed down. It was then he realized the one with the meanest looking gun was staring right at him. The man had eyes that could kill a God. They weren't even angry and they shot through him like a pair of searing bullets. When the others got sight of Michael they just stopped talking altogether. There was a long moment of silence as eyes locked. Suddenly each one was scrambling with his or her gun. The one with the deadly eyes held a hand up and the others stopped cold. They stared at him. It was clear this one was his. He stepped forward into the foyer and, as he reached for his gun, took measure of his shot.

"Selene…," Michael said as this spectacle unfolded. His mate inside the apartment was too busy working out a strategy to take notice. He turned to speak to her just in time to be missed. A shot rang out, leading to a bullet ricocheting off the railing next to him and to his mate now being very aware of his presence. Michael jumped at the sudden shot, his eyes going black in anticipation of the fight. There was cursing below. Apparently this man was known to kill his designated targets in a single shot. Next came a low, firey rumble from below.

As Selene looked over the railing, she was knocked back by the man's head as he suddenly appeared before them on some sort of rocket propelled boots. The man's eyes pierced Michael again and a smile crossed his face. He reached for his gun, but not fast enough. The mysterious man looked down to see an arm seeming to grow out of his chest. This arm appeared to be attached to his quarry. The black eyes of the abomination before him beheld a fiery rage. As his heart slowed, a grin spread across his face. His vision began to blur. He was losing consciousness. With the last of his strength, he spoke his promise to the creature.

"Next…time…," he whispered. The words put a look of concern on the monster's face and led to a painful shredding as its arm was removed from his chest. The grin never left the man's face as he fell the 14 floors to the rest of his team. Michael thought he even heard the man laugh just before he hit. No matter. There wasn't a human alive that could survive a fall like that, especially with a gaping hole in his chest. A number of other men came running in. Where did they come from?


End file.
